Training the Dragon
by glanmire
Summary: The Khal is the greatest warrior of the Dothraki, and his Khaleesi must be strong too; AU where Dany has to learn to fight.


"And this," Jorah gestured to the last woman by his side, a swarthy small lady with amber eyes who stared at Dany and smiled, "is Pynta."  
The stranger did not look away from Dany. She was strong, Dany realised, all lean muscle and she had certain way of standing.  
"What will Pinta-"  
"Pynta" the woman corrected.  
Dany heard absolutely no difference, and she continued undeterred, "-be teaching me?"  
"To fight, Khaleesi."  
Dany shook her head softly, thinking she had misheard, but Jorah confirmed her fears. "Yes, Khaleesi. The Khal is the greatest warrior of the Dothraki, and his Khaleesi needs to be able to hold her own too."  
Pynta smiled again at that, her teeth remarkably white against her tanned skin.  
"No need to fear Khaleesi. I will make a warrior out of you, simple," Pynta said, looking Dany up and down with an appraising look.  
"Ser Jorah, a moment perhaps?" Dany asked. Pynta inclined her head, and Dany and Jorah walked a short distance away.

"I can't learn to fight," Dany said quickly before the knight could speak. "Viserys would be furious. He says women are there to please their husbands, nothing more."  
"Being able to fight would please your husband, Khaleesi."  
She shook her head. Her throat was tight and strangely enough, tears were welling up, but she did not want Ser Jorah to see her upset.  
"What is the matter, Khaleesi?"  
"Nothing."  
How could she explain that when she awoke Viserys' dragon that he often slapped her, and that she would not let another person hit her again, even if it would please Drogo. She would not sacrifice her dignity to make her husband happy.  
Jorah looked at her and he understood, in that way that he had.  
"Khaleesi, Pynta will never strike you," he said, leaving 'unlike Viserys' unsaid. "She will simply teach you the way of weapons, strengthen you and the like."  
Dany let out a long breath and composed herself.  
"It seems like it is already decided then."  
"Yes, Khaleesi."  
She walked a little further, and then looked up at Ser Jorah's old weathered face.  
"Why can't you teach me?" she asked.  
"It would not be right, Khaleesi, for a man to teach a woman."  
She did not say it, but that seemed ridiculous to her. A sword was a sword, no matter whether a woman or a man wielded it.

In their first lesson that evening, Pynta simply tied little stones to Dany's arms with strips of cloth.  
"See, only small stones. You will barely feel them," she assured her, "but they will make you strong. We will build them up."  
Dany waited a moment. "Is that all?"  
Pynta nodded. "Yes Khaleesi. We start slowly. You have much to be doing already what with horse riding and loving Khal Drogo."  
Dany nodded at this small strange woman, and left, relieved. Her first lesson had not taken any effort at all.

Drogo examined her cloth weights that night, gently untying the knots so the stones spilt onto the ground. He laughed, a sound that came from deep inside of him so he seemed to rumble like distant thunder.  
"Moon of my life, strong like Drogo now?" he asked, holding her tight. Dany wriggled but she could not escape the strength of his arms. "Not yet, my sun-and-stars," she conceded, kissing him, and he smiled, and the weights were forgotten on the ground.

Pynta had not forgotten them so easily however. When Dany came to her the next day with brazenly bare arms, the cloth strips still in her tent, the little amber-eyed woman was not happy. Dany thought that she had woken the equivalent of this woman's dragon: and yet Pynta did not strike her as Viserys would.  
Finally she spoke. "Run with me, Khaleesi."  
That was just fine with her. Dany had never ran for sport, but it could not be that difficult. They kicked off with a good pace to start, and although Pynta was only up to Dany's shoulder she did not struggle with the dry air like Dany did after only mere minutes.  
They had barely made any progress when Dany had to stop. She had never ran before, not like this. Pynta wasn't even struggling for breath.  
"I did not say we were finished, Khaleesi," Pynta said, and then barked a laugh. "But if you are tired, by all means, get your breath back."  
Dany ignored the barbed comment and focused on her breath. Her vision, which had gone nearly white, was slowly going back to normal.  
"Here," Pynta said, and handed Dany a skin of water. Dany gratefully downed the water, and felt immediately better.  
"Let's go," she said, and began to run again, and she though she saw Pynta smile before she followed.

It wasn't just running and weights though. That, Pynta explained, was to make her strong. She also needed to know how to fight.  
"Khaleesi, what I want you do now is touch my shoulder."  
"Touch your shoulder?" Dany repeated.  
"Yes. This will improve your speed."  
Dany thought it was pretty stupid, but reached out touch Pynta's shoulder. The little woman swatted her hand away.  
"Faster," she said, circling Dany in her fighting stance, bouncing on her bare feet.  
Dany lunged again but Pynta sidestepped her easily.  
"Don't throw all your weight into it, Khaleesi. Jab, fast jabs."  
Dany smiled, and threw out her right hand fast, and then stretched her left one and managed to connect with Pynta's shoulder.  
"Yes!" Pynta exclaimed, and said, "Now we switch. Block my jabs."  
Dany held up her hands in the loose guard that Pynta had thought her, and tried to deflect the oncoming attacks, but Pynta was incredibly fast, darting from side to side, and a flurry of jabs tapped Dany's shoulders in the minutes that followed.  
Dany did not know the use of learning this, but it was almost fun, sliding and sidestepping, attacking and blocking without every hurting each other.

She had been right. Viserys was furious when he found out. Her brother nearly seemed to froth with rage as he spat at her.  
"You have a whore teaching you to fight, is that right?"  
"Pynta isn't a whore-"  
"All women are whores sister. Shall I bed this Pynta tonight? Will that convince you that she is scum, lowly enough to be licking the dirt off the boots of a Targaryen, not giving her fanciful notions."  
"Stop it Viserys-"  
"Stop it? Do you presume to order me now sister?" Viserys asked, and grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look into his maddened violet eyes.  
"What are you going to do Dany? Go on. Strike me. I dare you to," he drawled, and Dany couldn't help it but look down.  
"That's what I thought. Fine, continue these lessons if you please, but do not for one moment forget that I am the last of the dragons, and you would do well to show me the respect I deserve, instead of learning how to poke sticks at a whore."  
He swept out of the room, and Dany uncurled her fists from her sides.  
She felt ashamed, but could not say why.


End file.
